


Loving You Is Abstract

by PaigeIsNotOnFire



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:18:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaigeIsNotOnFire/pseuds/PaigeIsNotOnFire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam loves Zayn, Harry loves a blue eyed brunette boy he met at the club. Things are said, relationships are made.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loving You Is Abstract

**Author's Note:**

> Another sort of angsty one, this is my first Ziam!

“Maybe it was his eyes. Or his lips…” Harry ponders out loud. Liam just glares at him from across the table. “What?” the younger boy asks, irritation in his voice. Liam sighs before talking a swig of beer. 

“So you met this guy at a club, danced with him for five minutes, maybe mumbled like, two coherent sentences to each other, and you say you’re in love with him?” Liam questions disbelievingly. Harry groans at how stupid that sounded out loud.

“If Zayn did his stupid shimmy thing over to you and you were in the club, would you refuse to dance?” Harry snaps, trying to prove a point to the overly stubborn boy in front of him. Liam’s fist visibly tightens. Harry looks over him, noticing the bags under his eyes, and his red bitten lips. Plus its two in the afternoon and Liam’s on his third beer.

“Oh fuck, what happened with Zayn?” Harry’s tone instantly softens. Liam rubs a hand down his face, his eyes welling up slightly. Thank god they are in a corner booth, or else the whole pub would be witnessing Liam break down. Liam takes a stuttering breath.

“Shit, Liam, look at me.” Harry pulls Liam’s hands away from his face, holding onto them for reassurance. Liam takes a deep breath. “I, uh, I got pissed off about school and started yelling, and he tried to calm me down,” Liam lets a sob out, and Harry strokes the back of his hand with his thumb, trying to calm the boy.

“I kept screaming, and I c-called him useless and told him I hated him, and that I never, loved him. S-so he started sobbing and left the h-house.” Liam let his head drop onto the table. Harry sat there, his mouth open in shock, frozen in his place. He always teased Zayn and Liam about acting like a married couple, and about how they never fought.

“Oh my god.” Is the only thing Harry managed to say. 

“Shit Harry, I-I love him so fucking much. And now h-he’s gone.” Liam croaks out.

“You have to find him and tell him that. Shit Liam, where could he be?” Harry’s question lingered in the air. The older boy shook his head. “I called his Mum, he didn’t go back to Bradford. He has to still be in London.” Liam answers, massaging his temples.

They sit there in silence for a moment. “The art studio.” Liam announces, his head shooting up. Harry thinks about it, and it does make sense. When Zayn is upset, he paints, when he’s happy, he paints. “The studio is your best bet.” Harry agrees.

The art studio is part of the University of London’s art program, that’s where Liam and Zayn met. Liam was forced to take one more course in order to get the scholarship he wanted, and it was Visual Arts or Tactical Mathematics. 

The choice was easy. Liam had come back to his and Harry’s shared flat babbling on about this “Black haired god” that he encountered in visual arts. Harry had snorted and rolled his eyes, chuckling at his best mate’s new obsession.

“I’m going. I have to.” Liam stands up suddenly, sliding out of the booth and throwing a twenty on the table. “Sorry Harry!” He calls over his shoulder as he runs to the door. Harry just stuffs the twenty in his pocket with a smirk.

“Can I get that for you?” A high pitched voice comes from beside him. He looks up and, holy shit, it’s the guy from the club. The boy must recognize him too because he’s standing there, looking at Harry’s face with his lips slightly parted, and Harry thinks he is the luckiest person in the world right now.

“Um, sure.” Harry replies with a crooked smile, admiring the way the boys tan skin makes his cerulean eyes even brighter.

“I’m Louis, I believe we’ve met before.” The boy, Louis, introduces himself. Harry lets out a chuckle. “If by met you mean grinded to Rihanna, than yes, we’ve met before.” Harry grins. Louis laughs and Harry’s sure he’s in love.

*~*~*

“Shit.” Liam spits, staring at the door. It was locked, of course it was locked, it was reading week. Nobody would be around, yet somehow Zayn got inside. “Shit, shit, shit.” He rambled, stepping away from the building.

Glancing upwards, he notices an open window. Attached to the window were the stairs used for fire escape. Without even thinking he ran towards them. Grabbing at the cold metal of the railing, he began to climb, the closer he got, the faster his heart was beating.

Taking a moment to see how far he was from the ground, he looked down, to his horror. Liam didn’t like heights. “Fuck.” He turned and looked in front of him, he only had to climb up a latter and he would be in. Sucking in a deep breath he started up the latter, holding tightly to the metal rungs.

Once at the window, he swings a leg over the pane and steps onto the hardwood of the studio, before climbing in all the way. He takes off his stupid batman snapback that Harry had bought him, and sets it down, running a hand through his hair.

He only then notices the music playing. The song echo’s through the studio. The room is huge. White walls, old hardwood floors, twenty foot ceilings, and big windows on three of the four walls. It smells like paint and Marlboro cigarettes, and Zayn.

Suddenly the door of the studio swings open, and standing there is Zayn with a box of spray paint bottles. His eyes lock on Liam, frozen.  
Liam takes this opportunity to look at the state Zayn’s in. His hair is loose out of its quiff, messy and dishevelled. His eyes have bags under them that are noticeable even from across the room. His lips are bitten and red, his eyes are bloodshot. But what makes Liam’s heart drop to his stomach the most, is that Zayn is in one of his shirts. And even though he looks so broken, he looks so beautiful.

Liam stops staring and starts moving. Quickly walking across the studio. He takes the box from Zayn’s hands and sets it down gently on the ground, before pulling Zayn against him.  
Zayn’s breathe catches as he starts to let out little sobs, wrapping his arms around Liam, holding him as close as he can.  
“I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.” Liam cries, and Zayn gives a whine.

“I’m such a fuck up. Zayn, baby, you have to believe me, I love you so much, you didn't deserve that.” He says, angry tears streaming down his face. Liam was infuriated with himself. Zayn didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Zayn.

“I love y-you.” Zayn whimpers out, tightening his grip on the taller boy. Pressing kisses anywhere he can, Liam strokes his back, replaying the words in his head. He loves you still, it’s going to be okay, you’re with him, and he loves you.

Taking Zayn’s face in his hands, he presses his lips to the crying boys, pouring out all the desperation he’s felt the past couple of hours into the kiss. He nearly cries with relief when Zayn’s hands come to intertwine in his hair, while kissing back with just as much need.

"Can I show you somethin’?” Zayn mumbles against Liam’s lips, running his hands down the boys back. Liam nods before pressing one last kiss to Zayn’s forehead. Grabbing Liam’s hand, Zayn leads him over to one of the bigger canvases hanging on the wall. They stand in front of it, and Liam looks it over. “The first day we met, I came here at night and painted this. 

I didn’t understand why, but you captured my attention so quickly. I had to do something, so I did this. It’s abstract, how you made me feel.”

The painting was composed of bight reds, yellows, oranges and pinks. Despite the brightness of the colours, the brushstrokes were smooth and calm, not jutting every which way. 

The paint had texture. It looked as though at one point he put down the brush and used his hands. It was crazy, and colourful, yet calm and settled all at once. It’s Liam.

Letting the painting set in, Liam can’t help but let the tears pour over. He turns swiftly and pulls Zayn against him just like before.

“Fuck Zayn, It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.” Liam whispers, trying to keep his voice from shaking with tears.

“I would paint you something, but that would be disastrous.” Liam’s dead serious when he says it, but Zayn laughs. Liam smiles.

*~*~*

Later that night, when Zayn and Liam had stumbled back to their flat, exhausted from the day’s events, Zayn curled up against Liam’s warm body. Instantly he fell asleep in the safety of his arms. Liam then takes his phone and dials Harry’s number.

“Hello?” Harry answers, sounding half asleep.

“Hey H, where you sleeping?” Liam whispers, stroking Zayn’s soft hair.

"Just dosing off, no big deal. Did you find him?” Harry asks, suddenly wide awake.

“Yeah, I found him. We’re okay. He’s here sleeping.” Liam smiles softly, peering down at the beauty laying across his chest. 

“Aw mate, that’s fantastic.” Harry sounds genuinely happy. Liam chuckles.

“Hey, um, about what I said earlier…I believe you.” Liam sighs.

“What did I say earlier?” Harry groans.

“That you love him, that boy you met. I believe you. That’s how it was with Zayn.” Liam admits, pulling Zayn closer to him. 

“That’s how it’s always been.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you guys for reading, its honestly the best feeling in the world to see people enjoying it on here. Sorry if its shitty, this was written at 4 am. xx


End file.
